


A Traitor's Death

by Transposable_Element



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Archenland, Betrayal, Calormen, Ethical Dilemmas, Gen, Implied/Referenced Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-21
Updated: 2014-06-21
Packaged: 2018-02-05 15:05:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1822774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Transposable_Element/pseuds/Transposable_Element
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ahoshta Tarkaan meets his end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Traitor's Death

**Author's Note:**

> This is set about six months after the events of _The Horse and His Boy_.

One afternoon in autumn, King Lune summoned Aravis to his study. She came directly from riding with his sons. He didn't like to see her in trousers, but she had so far politely refused to give them up, at least for riding. And he knew better than to try to convince her to give up riding astride. Well, the Narnian queens rode astride, too—but they wore divided skirts, which he found much more seemly.

“Good afternoon, sir,” she said. “Is there news?”

“Yes. I have a letter from King Edmund,” he said, gesturing for her to sit, “with news from Tashbaan. Rabadash has been restored to his human form.”

Aravis nodded gravely. Lune scanned the letter again. “Of course we cannot be certain, but the king’s informants in Tashbaan believe that Rabadash has not mentioned seeing a Calormene girl at Anvard.”

Aravis nodded again, letting out the breath she had been holding. He knew how relieved she must be. “It was very foolish of me not to realize I oughtn’t to let him see me,” she said. Aravis had never been introduced to Rabadash, so even if he had noticed her, he would not have known who she was. But if word got out that there was a Calormene girl here at Anvard, her father might put two and two together.

“Well, we none of us thought of it,” said the king. “We were all preoccupied with other matters. But fortunately, so was Rabadash. If it is true that he didn’t notice your presence, or had it driven out of his mind by the experience of being turned into an ass, then we can make some more long term plans for your stay here at Anvard.”

“Thank you, sir,” she said. “You’ve been very good to me, and I would be sorry to have to leave.”

“And I would hate for you to leave us before you’ve had the opportunity to take Corin down another peg or two,” he said, with a twinkle. “I’m greatly in your debt for that. And for other matters, of course.”

“I’m pleased to be of service, sir,” she said, smiling.

“But,” the king continued, “there is some more…unexpected news here. It seems that as soon as Rabadash was restored, he called for Ahoshta Tarkaan’s execution on the grounds of high treason. He has not explained his reasons publicly—I suppose the Tisroc will not allow it—but apparently the prince believes Ahoshta responsible for sending us word of the attack.”

Aravis’s face froze. “Oh,” she said, after a moment. “Well, I suppose that’s an obvious inference….It hadn’t occurred to me, but of course…”

“Does this trouble you, my dear?” he asked.

“No, sir. Or…I’m not sure. I suppose it’s another sign that Rabadash didn’t take any notice of me. And Ahoshta is as evil a man as I’ve ever seen. If anybody deserves to die a traitor’s death….but...this is one deed we know he didn’t commit...”

“He is a traitor in principle,” said the king. “A traitor to ideals of honor and fair play. Your ideals—Calormene ideals—as well as ours.”

“I’m glad that you see it that way, sir. You’re a fair-minded man.”

“Well, I don’t always succeed, but I do strive to be one. Especially in difficult times like these.”

She was looking pensive and seemed to have no more to say. “You may run along, if you wish,” he said. “We needn’t discuss this further now. But we should talk later about your plans to stay at Anvard, now that it appears that your father will remain in the dark about your whereabouts.”

She nodded and rose to leave. "Does the letter say whether Ahoshta has been executed yet?" she asked.

"Not yet. Apparently there will be some pretense of a trial, but there's no doubt about the outcome," he said. Aravis nodded again. “You ought have time to change before supper,” the king added, as she left.

Aravis descended the stairs and crossed the bustling inner ward of the castle, deep in thought. It had not occurred to her until today that Rabadash would blame Ahoshta for the failure of the attack on Anvard. But of course it made perfect sense: as far as he or his father knew, Ahoshta was the only other person who could have warned the Archenlanders. Given what she’d seen of the man, there was no reason for anybody to think him incapable of betraying the prince—but he hadn’t. She, of all people, could be certain of that. She didn't want this on her conscience.

Still, his death might help protect Lasaraleen. Aravis wondered what her friend thought about all of this. Probably she had put their whole adventure in the Tisroc’s palace out of her mind: she was good at ignoring or forgetting things she didn’t want to think about. In retrospect, Aravis felt ashamed of how thoughtless she had been to leave her friend in such terrible danger. Aravis had escaped the city, but Lasaraleen was still there, and if anybody discovered that she had known of the attack on Anvard, she would die horribly…But it appeared certain now that nobody knew. King Edmund had a network of spies in Tashbaan, mostly Birds, but also Mice (who were so large that anybody who chanced to see them took them for rats, and gigantic ones, at that). The king had promised to have his spies keep an eye on Lasaraleen, and there was no sign that anybody had connected her with the attack or its failure. Well, who would think of it? Empty-headed frivolity, or the appearance of it, was excellent protection.

As Aravis went up to her room to change her clothes, she thought about Ahoshta. If he died tomorrow, she wouldn’t mourn. But even he didn’t deserve a traitor’s death, a hideous series of humiliations, mutilations, and tortures that went on for days, with physicians in attendance to ensure that the traitor didn’t die until he had endured everything. Eventually the traitor was ripped apart and fed to beasts in the Tisroc’s menagerie.

She was thoughtful all during supper, and immediately afterward she went back to her room, where she lay awake until dawn. She felt more turmoil than she had since her conversation with King Edmund just before the Summer Festival, about what it meant to be a traitor. She thought of the men she knew who had died in the battle at Anvard: Ilgamuth, who had always been so kind to her; her father’s old friend Corradin. But then, if things had gone differently, who would have died? King Lune, Shar, Lord Dar, Master Din? Every man here at Anvard, maybe, and the women and girls taken as slaves: Mistress Bik, Lady May, Lady Dar, young Kit. And then, after that, would Rabadash really have succeeded in carrying off Queen Susan? What would have happened to Shasta? Would there have been war between Narnia and Calormen?

She had done the right thing in betraying the attack; she knew she had. She had helped prevent death, bloodshed, rape, enslavement. But it was still a betrayal. This was a contradiction she might never resolve.

She lay there thinking of what she ought to do about Ahoshta. Eventually, she reached the conclusion that there was nothing she, or anybody, could do to save his life. Nothing would dissuade Rabadash from his revenge. And there was no way to rescue anybody from the Tisroc’s prisons, not without putting the rescuers in terrible danger. She was not in a position to ask anybody to take such a risk, and even if she were, she would not ask it, not to aid such a man. But she had heard stories of one thing a traitor’s friends could do to help him. 

In the morning she wrote a letter to King Edmund. She didn’t mention it to King Lune, who thought it improper for an unmarried girl to correspond privately with the young king. It would go out with the next courier. 

 

Three weeks later, King Lune again called Aravis to his study. He had another letter from King Edmund, saying that Ahoshta was dead. He had poisoned himself in his cell before he could be executed. Nobody knew how he had obtained the poison. He had been shut away in the deepest dungeon, with only rats for company.

**Author's Note:**

> C.S. Lewis would hate this story. Then again, he'd probably hate all of my Narnia fanfic...
> 
> Here’s a paragraph I took out as an unnecessary expository lump. But in case you’re wondering about the royal mails: 
> 
> Twice a week a courier made the journey from Anvard to Cair Paravel and back, carrying the mail. It was not an ideal system—the mountains were dangerous for a man riding alone, especially during the summer, when bandits swarmed the passes, ready to ambush travelers. Short messages, written or verbal, could be carried by Talking Birds, and that was the way any really sensitive information was dispatched. But unless and until they moved the court of Archenland from Anvard back down to Armouth, a mounted courier was the only good way to send longer missives.


End file.
